


it's okay

by rainingstars_midnightskies



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Makoto is an angel, Minor Original Character(s), Not literally, References to High Speed, References to Starting Days, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Sloooooow Burn, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Texting, haru bottles it all up, haru is a slow typer, lots of texting, makoto is very punctual, this is like...an outlet for my own emotions??, watch out guys haru's depressed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2018-11-09 07:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11099982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainingstars_midnightskies/pseuds/rainingstars_midnightskies
Summary: It's been a year since Makoto and Haru left Iwatobi. It's been a year since Haru found his dream. Things should be all right.But they're not.They don't see each other every day anymore. Haru feels like a crutch has been pulled out from under him. All this time, he's been hiding himself in the water, hiding behind a silent, stoic mask. Now, every day, that mask is crumbling, and Haru doesn't know why. He's lost.Makoto knows Haru better than anyone. They've known each other since they were barely a few months old. Their bond is almost psychic, if you believe that kind of stuff.But it feels like Makoto's holding on to something that's crumbling by the day. He knows Haru isn't okay. He's trying his best, but it doesn't seem to be working."It's okay," Haru says.Is it really?NOTE: Updates will be sporadic, few and far between. I'll try my best to keep updating. I really appreciate everyone who's read this so far. Thank you so much for your support.





	1. doubt

**Author's Note:**

> Makoto is bold text, Haru is normal text.  
> i'm kind of a shit writer so haru may be ooc sorry  
> chat logs are in 24-hour time because japan  
> chapters are gonna be short and probably sporadic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru isn't okay. Why would he ever admit that, though?

**December 27, 2015**

**23:00: Good night, Haru-chan! ( ´ ▽ ` ) I didn't see you, but I hope you had a good day today!**

23:02: good night

23:03: and stop with the -chan

**23:03: (－ω－) zzZ**

 

**December 28, 2015**

01:39: u awake

 

    After a minute or two, Haru shuts his old flip phone with a unnecessarily loud _clack_ and sets it on the bedside table. It isn’t any use, anyway. Tonight will be a sleepless night for him, but he should at least let Makoto rest.

    In this old house, all he needs are his thoughts to keep him company.

 

**December 28, 2015**

**09:15: I was asleep. Sorry, Haru. (^_^;) Did you need anything?**

09:16: no nvm

**09:16: If you say so, Haru…**

**09:16: Hey, want to go to the ramen place for lunch tomorrow? Rin said he was free too, so we could all meet up together!**

09:17: ok

09:17: i can cook though

**09:18: That’s fine! You should take a break once in a while, Haru-chan.**

09:19: i told u stop with the -chan

09:19: -_-

**09:19: You used an emoji! (*´▽`*)**

09:20: -_______-

09:21: im going running

**09:22: Oh, okay! Do you want me to come along again?**

09:23: do what u want

**09:23: I’ll take that as a yes. (^.^) I’ll meet you downstairs in 10 minutes!**

09:24: k

**09:24: ε=ε=┌( >_<)┘**

 

    The air is fresh and crisp, the waves tumbling and the water choppy. His breath puffs out in little white clouds. He could just dash down the stairs and jump in right now…

    “Thinking about swimming?” Makoto inquires kindly. “It’s still December, so you can’t swim in the ocean. The SC is probably open, so why don’t we go there?”

    “Yeah.” Haru gazes into the water. It isn’t quite swimming he's thinking about, but what Makoto doesn’t know won’t kill him.

    “Rin’s really looking forward to seeing us,” Makoto hums as they pass a florist’s shop. “It’s been so long…”

    “Not for me.” Haru glowers halfheartedly at the shop windows. Rin is noisy, but somehow his boisterous nature is almost welcome after months of no contact. He’s been busy training all this time, but it's off-season, so they can finally see each other again.

    “Oh, that’s right! You saw him in October, didn’t you? That race you had was amazing. Rin’s really gotten stronger.”

    “Mm.” Haru lost for the fifth time in a row. He tries not to care, but he does.

    _Are you even good enough anymore?_

    Haru’s heart stutters in his chest. His gaze snaps to the water again. He doesn’t really care about times, or winning, or anything like that, even now. That's Rin’s thing, not his. What's he doing, chiding himself over a stupid race? It's the water that matters, not the winner.

    Makoto grabs Haru’s arm and yanks him backwards. “Watch out!”

    With a jolt, Haru realizes he was about to run straight into the street. This is the busiest time of day. Cars and trucks rush past inches away from him, so strange, so jarring in serene, sleepy Iwatobi…

    It's only been a year since they left. What happened? What's going on?

    “Haru,” Makoto begins, his tone cajoling. God, there he is, going all mother-hen again. “Are you sure you want to keep going? Maybe we should head back now.”

    _Idiot,_ Haru chastises himself over and over. “Let’s go.” He makes for the road. The stoplight is red, and the traffic has come to a halt.

    “ _Haru-chan_ ,” Makoto insists. “You’re awfully out of it today. I really don’t think it’s safe for us to keep going—”

    “I’m fine,” Haru snaps, and takes off with Makoto trailing behind him. _So meddlesome._

   

**December 28, 2015**

**14:21: Haru, are you all right?**

14:22: ya

**14:22: …Are you sure you’re not sick?**

14:23: im fine

**14:23: Okay…**

**14:23: Are we still going out to lunch tomorrow?**

14:24: ya

**14:24: Awesome! (＾▽＾) Rin just texted me. He says he wants to race you again.**

14:28: …

14:29: thx for this morning

**14:29: Don’t worry about it. What are friends for?**

14:30: annoying me

**14:30: Haru—!**

14:31: -_-

**14:31: (╥_╥)**

14:31: (ｏ・_・)ノ”(ノ_<、)

**14:32: Haru…**

14:32: what

**14:32: Never mind. (^_^;) See you tomorrow!**

14:33: bye makoto

**14:33: ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo y'all my tumblr is rain-writing-and-music.tumblr.com,,, i just reblog a ton of vld stuff, memes, yuri on ice, & other random shit but talk to me if u wanna


	2. reunion?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK THIS IS THE REAL CHAPTER I PROMISE  
> Haru and Makoto reunite with some old friends, and discover something terrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if the chapter does post, then a warning for you guys: starting with the line, "Once they’re seated and waiting for their orders, Makoto begins…", a character's attempted suicide and mental deterioration is discussed. stay safe, guys.  
> bold is makoto, regular is haru, italic is nagisa.

**December 29, 2015**

**08:30: Haru! Big news! SOS!!!**

08:35: what!

 **08:35: Nagisa and Rei want us to come over and watch the swim club practice. They finally managed to gather enough funds to guarantee a membership at the local gym for a whole year!! ヽ( >** _ **< ☆)ノ**

08:36: !

08:37: ok

**08:37: Isn’t it exciting?! ＼(≧▽≦)／ They say their new swimmers are really good, too! They’re as good as Rin!**

08:38: !!!

08:39: coming

**08:39: I’ll be waiting!**

 

    The sun is less watery than usual today. Makoto’s driving, since he’s the only one who learned how; Haru gazes out of the open window at the busy streets. There are souvenirs for Nagisa and Rei in his lap; a penguin box keychain for Nagisa, and the latest sci-fi thriller novel for Rei (fact-checked and virtually plot hole-free, as Haru made sure), both wrapped in blue ocean-print wrapping paper and tucked into nice bags courtesy of Makoto’s mother.

The wind whips at his face and hair, fresh and cold. It’s the only thing that has remained constant about Iwatobi; shining new buildings have sprung up all over the town, and the sound of rushing traffic can be heard at all hours of the day. Even the high school must have changed by now. He wonders how Nagisa and Rei are taking it.

    _New swimmers, huh?_ He wonders how good they are. If Nagisa’s right, then they’re ridiculously strong. Strong enough to surpass him.

    _“I’ll never swim with you again.”_

    Haru shudders, a strange dull ache squeezing at his chest. That was a long time ago. What’s he doing, thinking of that now? All of that is done. Rin swims with him all the time.

    “Haru,” Makoto says, glancing over at him briefly. “What’s wrong?”

    “Cold,” Haru mutters, then realizes that’s a mistake. That leaves only one logical course of action; roll up the window and close off the only source of noise and distraction in this car. He’ll have to face the mother hen head-on.

    “There’s a jacket in the back seat, if I could reach it—” Makoto begins to reach back, leaving only one hand on the steering wheel.

Haru stops him and reaches for the jacket himself. “Watch the road.”

“Yeah. Thank you.” Makoto sighs. “To be honest, I’m having mixed feelings about this. I’d really love to see Rei and Nagisa again, but going back to the swim club after such a long time…”

 _Feels wrong._ “Yeah.”

Haru knows how he feels. Leaving Iwatobi High was painful, but at the same time relieving; that place only reminds Haru of the past now, and he’d rather leave that behind and focus on the future.

At least, he’s trying to.

He pulls the jacket a little tighter around himself and stares at the ocean. The car halts at a stoplight.

Suddenly, he sees Makoto standing at the edge of the water. _I thought about going to a place where Haru isn’t._

His heart thuds in his chest. His hands clutch at his shirt. He tears his gaze away from the sea and tries to take deep, slow breaths. That was in middle school. Why won’t these memories stop haunting him? Why does he keep seeing that hollow gaze in the shadows of Makoto’s eyes?

“Haru, if you don’t want to go, that’s fine.” Makoto’s spring-green eyes are kind and gentle, as always. He’s giving him a clear way out, but…

Haru doesn’t know what to say. Nagisa and Rei are waiting. Rin is going out to lunch with them today. Letting this get in the way would be pathetic, wouldn’t it?

“I’m okay.”

Makoto gives him one last long, searching look, but thankfully drops the subject. “All right.”

 

**December 29, 2015**

_09:01: HARU-CHAAAANNNN HURRY UPPPPP REI AND I ARE WAITING!!!! ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ_

09:02: ya ya

09:03: omw

_09:04: FINALLYYYYYYYYYY CAN YOU SEE US IM WAVING HARU-CHAAANNNNN ( >_<)ﾉ” _

09:05: ya

_09:06: HARU-CHAN DONT JUST STAND THERE AND TEXT GET OVER HERE_

09:07: ya

 

    “I see that look on your face, Haru-chan!” Nagisa calls across the pool, pretending to be offended. “When I said you’re always smiling on the inside, I didn’t mean you were laughing at _me!”_

    “Nagisa-kun, _please,_ quiet down,” Rei begins, only to be shut down instantly with Nagisa’s patented Puppy-Dog Eyes™.

“You’re loud,” mutters Haru, turning his face. There’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile on his lips.

Makoto laughs, relieved. At least he can count on Nagisa and Rei to make Haru smile.

“Your form is loose, Shimada-kun,” Rei calls, gazing at a boy who seems to be a first-year doing laps. “Don’t flail so much!”

Shimada responds to his advice immediately, tightening up his form until the arc of his arms falls in _exactly_ the same place every stroke. Haru stares at him, interested.

“They’re really good,” Makoto says, staring wonderstruck at the other swimmer, a brunet second-year swimming backstroke. “This team could work really well!”

“Haru-chan, what do you think?” Nagisa leans over, his eyes wide. “Aren’t they amazing? Kou-chan, the one doing freestyle, is kind of a slacker, but he’s really skilled! And Tacchan, the backstroke swimmer, he’s really determined!”

    “Their names are not Kou-chan and Tacchan, Nagisa-kun,” Rei mutters, pushing up his glasses. “Koutarou Shimada and Tatsuya Miyashiro, freestyle and backstroke respectively. Shimada-kun is a first-year, while Miyashiro-kun is a second-year. They’re both very skilled swimmers, as you can see.”

“Thanks for the explanation, Rei,” Makoto says, smiling. “They do seem like excellent swimmers.”

Miyashiro finishes his laps and climbs out of the pool, panting. He glances up and grins, his violet eyes sparkling. “Hi, there. You must be Tachibana-senpai and Nanase-senpai. So nice to meet you!”

He shakes Haru’s hand firmly. Haru raises an eyebrow fractionally and is met with a brief crack in Miyashiro’s smiling façade. _This kid…_

“Nanase-senpai,” he says, unfailingly friendly. “I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Is that so,” Haru replies flatly.

Makoto gives him a look.

“Nice to meet you too,” Haru finishes reluctantly.

“And Tachibana-senpai, I’ve heard stories about you too,” Miyashiro says, grinning even wider. “Nagisa’s always talking about how kind you are. It’s really nice to meet you.”

Nagisa laughs as Makoto turns pink. “Is he? I’m glad to meet you too, Miyashiro-kun.”

“Hey, Kou,” calls Miyashiro, turning around to face the pool. “Get out of there already!”

    The younger swimmer does one more lap, then hoists himself out of the pool. Miyashiro goes to help him out of the water, and Haru is struck with a strange sense of déjà vu. Is this what he and Makoto looked like a year ago?

    “Hi,” says Shimada nonchalantly, shaking each of their hands in turn. His black hair is swept back from his face, revealing serpentine green eyes that flick over them curiously. Haru finds them strangely unsettling. “Nanase and Tachibana, right?”

“Yeah,” Makoto says, smiling at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Shimada-kun. Nagisa, Rei, do you guys plan to take part in the impromptu tournament that Coach Sasabe is putting on?”

“Of course,” Rei says, pushing up his glasses with a glint in his eye. “I signed us all up for the medley relay.”

“Whaaat?” Nagisa whines. “I didn’t know about this!”

    “I was planning to tell you all anyway,” Rei sighs, more fond than exasperated. “Don’t worry. It’s at the SC, so our only real competition will be against Samezuka Academy. I’m sure you’re excited to race Nitori-kun again.”

“ _Ai-chan!”_ Nagisa screams, jumping onto Rei as if he’s a tree. “I haven’t seen him in _forever!_ ”

Haru exhales a soft laugh. They haven’t changed a bit.

The rest of the conversation fades away as he retreats into his mind. It’s a peaceful kind of retreat, the kind he usually performs around most people. He doesn’t pay much attention, except when Makoto nudges him and he lets out the occasional “Mm” or “Yeah.” At the very end, when Nagisa and Rei wave goodbye, Haru smiles at them, leaving them with the most comical expressions he’s ever seen on a human face.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Makoto says gently once they’re back in the car, on the way to the ramen place they’re supposed to meet Rin at. “Nagisa and Rei haven’t changed a bit, have they?”

“Nope.” _Mind-reader._

“And the new swimmers were really friendly, too. Shimada-kun reminded me of you, Haru.” Makoto laughs a little. “Always smiling on the inside.”

“Stop with that already,” Haru mutters, his lips curving upwards just the slightest bit.

“Sorry, Haru.” He doesn’t sound sorry at _all._ “Oh, there’s Rin! Let me just park here…”

Once that’s done, they get out of the car and barely have a moment to wave before Rin is tackle-hugging both of them. “You guys, it’s been forever. Haru, how are your times?”

“Good.” Haru knows this will irritate Rin. It does, and he gets a smack on the shoulder for it.

“Don’t just say _good_ and leave it at that, damn it!”

Makoto laughs. “So how’s everything on your end, Rin?”

“Oh, I’m training for Olympic gold next summer,” Rin says proudly. “Haru’s going for gold, too, but he won’t admit it. Everyone’s really pumped. I even had our old captain Mikoshiba come see me the other day to see how I was doing.”

“That’s amazing! Speaking of Mikoshiba, how’s Gou-chan doing?”

“She’s dating Momo,” Rin mutters, obviously ticked off. “He’s trying to get a dinner date with her, and I said _no,_ damn it, you’re not taking my sister anywhere after dark. Who knows what that crazy beetlebrain is up to?”

“Beetlebrain?!”

    “That’s what I’m calling him from now on. Hurry up, both of you, or we won’t get seats in there.” Rin drags them both through the door, instantly overloading their senses with the scent of ramen broth. Haru smells mackerel.

Haru will get mackerel.

Once they’re seated and waiting for their orders, Makoto begins, “Rin, I know this is a touchy subject for you, but…”

“Yeah, what?” Rin raises an eyebrow.

“How is Sousuke doing these days? We haven’t heard a word from him since graduation.”

“He’s…” Rin looks away, staring at the chefs swarming around the hectic kitchen. “He started doing sports medicine. It wasn’t his first choice, but he said it would be a way for him to connect to swimming again.”

 _Past tense?_ Haru’s eyes flick to Rin. His fist is clenching at the material of his pants under the table.

“As the months passed, he started telling me about how he didn’t know where he’d ever fit in.” Rin sighs. “He said he’d give anything just to swim again, but his dream was broken beyond repair. I said to him, you know, you can rest your shoulder and get therapy and heal it, and maybe one day you can swim again, but he told me that was impossible.”

“Oh, no,” Makoto breathes.

“I didn’t know what to say to him,” Rin says, almost inaudible in the clatter and bustle of the restaurant. “He just shut me out after that. Wouldn’t say a word about how he felt, or anything.”

“And then…?”

Haru has a dreadful feeling that he knows what’s coming next. A chef places their bowls on the counter; he stares into the still-bubbling broth, not wanting to hear what Rin says after that.

“He sent me a text one day, just…spilling everything out in this terrifying letter. I tried to get to his place in time, but…he was already unconscious when I reached.”

Haru inhales sharply.

“He attempted suicide. He’s still in the hospital, on life support. It’s likely that when… _if_ he wakes up, he’ll have severe, irreparable brain damage from the blood loss he sustained before I called the ambulance.”

“Oh my God." Makoto's eyes are wide. Green, the bright, unforgiving color of agony.

“Rin…” Haru glances over at him. Rin’s face is placid on the surface, a roiling riptide of emotion swirling just beneath his calm expression.

“We can’t do anything but wait now.” Rin sighs. “I’m going to give him an earful when he wakes up.”

“Do they let anyone see him?” Haru asks quietly.

“They’ll probably let you guys in if I asked. Not that there’s any point. He’s…a long way gone. Probably can't hear a word I say.”

Haru doesn’t know what to say. Makoto reaches over and puts his hand on Rin’s shoulder. “Rin, we’ll hear you out if you need to talk about it.”

“Thanks. I might…I might take you up on that offer in a little while." Rin blinks hard and puts his face in his hands.

They eat in silence. Haru stares at the counter, the ramen tasting like cardboard on his tongue.

 _Who could have known,_ is the only dull thought resonating inside his mind.


	3. dreamworld

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru didn't expect his own mind to turn against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so uh,,, look who updates just before school starts  
> this entire chapter is one big TW/content warning. just…yikes, lots of stuff happening. more suicide mention, a huge amount of self-hatred, and a terrible dream. good luck reading this lmao  
> no texting in this chapter btw: it's completely haru-centric  
> other characters will get some love in upcoming chapters tho!! i promise!!

_It’s a beautiful evening. The sun is setting over the ocean, casting the beach in an orange glow and sending golden flashes of light dancing over the waves. The wind swirls, and birds circle overhead, their soft cries echoing over the water to the horizon._

_Sousuke is standing at the edge of the pier. He turns around; his eyes are feverishly bright. “Haru.”_

_“Sousuke.” It’s still odd calling him that. You walk up to join him, lingering a few feet behind him; he turns around and beckons you over to where he’s standing. Reluctantly, you step forward again, not making eye contact._

_The two of you stand in silence for a while. You sit down on the very edge of the pier after about ten minutes, your legs dangling just above the water, and scoop up some liquid in your hand. It runs through your fingers, despite your repeated attempts to contain it for even a little while. It’s cold, enough so to make you shiver from the tips of your fingers to your toes. You’d love to swim, just drown in this beautiful clear water, but something is stopping you from doing so. It frustrates you—you resignedly content yourself with trailing your fingers through the water until they’re tinged blue with cold._

_“You been swimming lately?” Sousuke asks after a long, long time. It’s been hours since you arrived; the sky is dark, a multitude of stars already glittering like diamonds against a midnight floor. The sunset was beautiful, but the moonlight is better. More peaceful._

_“Yeah.”_

_“Must be nice.”_

_You glance up, not sure what to say. He’s gazing out as if the horizon holds answers. “I tried swimming again last year. Couldn’t do it.”_

_“But your shoulder,” you say, glancing back at the water and sloshing it around. “Why?”_

_“I wanted to feel that again…what I felt swimming with Rin.” Sousuke sighs. “That was a one-time thing, I guess.”_

_You wonder why he’s telling you this. It’s not like you’re that close or anything._

_“Do you still feel that?” he asks you. He slips out of his shoes and socks and sits down beside you, dipping his feet into the water. His legs are longer than yours._

_“Yeah.” Now why are you telling him this? What’s with this conversation?_

_“Nice to be with a friend. Rin and I were in completely different parts of the campus, so we never saw each other.”_

_“I’m not with a friend.”_

_Sousuke glances at you. “You have Makoto, right?”_ _  
_

_“He’s across the campus too.”_

_“Oh.”_

_A few more hours pass by. You aren’t bored, somehow; just watching the moon and stars slowly traverse the sky as you trace patterns in the water is enough for you. You wish you could swim, though._

_“Want to try swimming here?” Sousuke says quietly._

_“It’s cold. We’ll get sick.” You’re just repeating Makoto’s winter mantra at this point, though. You’d love a dip._

_“So what?” Sousuke grins. “This is a dream anyway.”_

_That’s true. You get up and strip off your clothes. You’re wearing your jammers already. Sousuke strips down to his own trunks and you both slip into the water._

_The cold shocks you; the water is much deeper than you thought, too. For a moment, you sink, resisting the urge to gulp in air, but then you swim up and suddenly the water seems warmer. The night chill raises goosebumps even more strongly on your arms, and you shiver._

_Sousuke raises his right arm experimentally. “Wait…I can…”_

_His shoulder isn’t red. It seems fine, actually. Strange._

_He swings his arm around and slaps the water. His eyes are even brighter now. “I can use my arm again!”_

_So this really is a dream. “Sousuke,” you say. “I’ll race you.”_

_“To where?” He grins. “The next pier?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Then I’ll do it. On the count of three!”_

_You both brace yourselves against the pier’s supports. “One,” you say. “Two…”_

_“Three!” Sousuke shouts in unison with you, and you’re off._

_It’s beautiful. So beautiful. You can see the moonlight piercing through the water here. Even as your arms slice through the water, your body sliding easily into the openings within, you’re able to see the sky for brief moments as you gulp in air. The ocean floor is clearly visible; there are shells dotting the sand here and there. You’d like to pick one up, but you’re in the middle of a race._

_Your hand slaps against the next pier a whole second before Sousuke’s does. He hits it hard, and you can feel the reverberations under your palm. Panting, you glance over at him. He’s smiling as he never has before. It looks weird on his face. He seems younger somehow; almost like the Sousuke you met in high school, but less intense._

_“That was fun.” He grins. “You won. Thanks, Haru.”_

_“Don’t_ thank _me,” you mumble. “Weirdo.”_

_“You’re one to talk.” There’s no bite in his words. He pushes off the pier and floats on his back for a bit. You do the same. The sky is beautiful._

_A few more hours pass with you just floating in the water. You’re not paying attention to Sousuke, so it surprises you when he pops up from the water a foot from your head. Your feet hit the sand and you back away._

_“I did something wrong, didn’t I?” he asks, not to anyone in particular. His eyes are downcast, and he’s smiling softly at the water; the droop to his eyes reminds you of Makoto._

_You turn away. “What are you talking about.”_

_“Trying to kill myself like that…it’s weird. It’s not like me.”_

_“It’s not,” you agree._

_“Although,” he says. You look up. “It’s not like_ I’d _know what I was thinking. I’m just the version of Sousuke that lives in your head.”_

_You stare at him, silent._

_“I guess you think I’m a nice person under all that bullshit I spouted back in high school.” He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re weird, Haru. You act all cool, but you’re a mess, aren’t you?”_

_You turn your back on him. You don’t like what he’s saying._

_“Haru.” The anger is back in his voice._

_You don’t move._

_“Haru,” Sousuke sighs, exasperated. “I wasn’t trying to insult you.”_

_That’s not it. ‘Damn it, Sousuke,’ you think. ‘You moron. Stop forcing your emotional bullshit on everyone.’_

_‘Hypocrite,’ a small voice nags at you._

_“Haru.”_

_“Stop.”_

_“I’m serious—Look at me, you dumbass.”_

_You turn around, angry. Why does he keep talking to you? To your surprise, he’s laughing. It gives you a bad feeling. “I know how you think, Haru. I’m part of your mind, you know. So’s all this.”_

_You look around. This water could warm up a bit._

_It does._

_“And you know why you’re dreaming about me.”_

_You do._

_“It’s because you’re fixated on my suicide attempt, isn’t it?”_

_You don’t move. Shut up, Sousuke._

_“It’s okay to admit it. Hearing about one person doing it makes you want to try it too. If it put me out of my misery, couldn’t it do the same for you?” Sousuke’s eyes are less greenish in this light. Larger. Clearer._

_Again, you let him continue. He’s not getting anything out of you._

_“Couldn’t it do the same for_ me? _” His hair is longer, suddenly, maybe that’s just because it’s wet…_

_No. That’s not it. The square jaw has morphed into an oval face. The hair is black, not dark brown. The eyes are blue, not teal._

_“Stop it,” says Sousuke-Haru. “Stop denying it. You just want to escape. You’d love to stay here forever, or maybe drown yourself here. It wouldn’t hurt if you didn’t want it to. You’d just breathe in and die.”_

_You close your eyes and smile just a little bit, then bend your knees and sink down below the water. Just one breath will do._

_“Mistake,” says Haru-Sousuke. You can hear his—your?—voice clearly through the water. “I lied. It’ll hurt.”_

_A hand plants itself on your head, holding you underwater. You try to shove it aside, but it pushes you further down. The pressure builds up. You swallow. The pain dissipates somewhat._

_“You’re an idiot,” Haru-Sousuke says. “You’re an idiot. You’re just looking for attention. Idiot. You won’t get it. Least of all from me.”_

_“You’re not me,” you say into the water. No bubbles erupt from your mouth. All you hear is your own voice echoing around in your skull. “You don’t matter.”_

_“Are you trying to imply that_ you do? _”_

_You don’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. Instead, you breathe in deeply. If he wants you to die, then you’ll die. Who cares? Not you._

_“Think about this, then.” Haru comes down below the surface to meet your eyes. It’s you. It was you all along. Always you. “When you die, you’ll pass this pain on to Makoto instead.”_

Makoto!

_Haru reaches for your throat and pulls you down with him. “Die here. I want you to learn what you’ll feel when you die in the real world.”_

_Makoto, no, no, no! You can’t…!_

_“Breathe in.”_

_You need to breathe in. Already, water has filled your lungs halfway. You cough and breathe in again, involuntarily. Black spots dance at the corners of your eyes. Why are you still awake? You would have died a long time ago—_

_“I kept you awake,” Haru tells you, smiling brightly. It looks weird on your face. You kick him. He doesn’t let go._

_Another breath. Half your vision is gone. All you can see is your own face, eerily empty, staring you down._

_“I’ll never forgive you.”_

Haru bolts upright, tears streaming down his cheeks, gasping for breath. Clutching his chest, he leans over and _breathes_ precious air until he’s lightheaded. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s crying until a few seconds later when a sob hiccups from his throat. He wipes his eyes and goes to the bathroom to wash his face.

“It’s okay,” he whispers to himself, staring at his terrified expression in the mirror. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” His voice is so high-pitched, his terror so childlike, that he might have been in elementary school. Again and again, he repeats those same words: _it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay._ After about three minutes of it, he’s starting to believe them.

He’s also starting to understand why Makoto was afraid of water.

Turning around, Haru heads to the bed again. The clock on the nightstand reads _03:46._ Thirty minutes he lies there, trying to sleep, and then realizes it’s not happening. He’s craving fresh air; the suffocating covers are the thing he needs least.

Still shaking, he goes to the front door and opens it. The freezing night air immediately hits him; a sudden memory of _the water_ overtakes him again and he tries to convince himself it wasn’t real. That place doesn’t exist. The pier, it’s not here. It’s not in this place, or anywhere nearby.

As he gazes out at the darkened pathways, he suddenly sees a figure by Makoto’s doorway. The hair is too short, the posture too hunched; he’s never seen anyone from Makoto’s family carrying that bag before.

His heart is pounding. He tries to reassure himself, but he can’t.

The figure turns. He glimpses a square jaw.

“Sousuke?” he breathes, his voice breaking.

Whoever it is turns around and walks away. Under the light of a streetlamp, he sees that the figure’s hair is blonde; the jacket on her shoulders is far too big for her slim frame; and the bag she is holding has _Ueyama Tennis Club_ printed on it. There's no way she could have been Sousuke. Why is she out at four in the morning, anyway?

Haru’s knees buckle and he falls to the cobblestones. _This is so weird,_ he thinks somewhere deep in the fog of his mind as tears spring afresh from his eyes. _This is so strange. Why am I acting like this?_

_Am I going crazy?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr is rain-writing-and-music.tumblr.com!!


	4. fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The New Year comes with a breathy puff and disappears faster than Haru's presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UH? GUESS WHOM? UPDATED? WROW THATS A NEW ONE  
> i hope y'all enjoy this chapter!! i had a rare burst of motivation!!!

**December 31, 2015**

**11:03: Haru! Haru, are you there?**

11:10: what

11:11: you’re back

**11:12: Yes, we are, but something terrible has happened!**

**11:12: When we arrived this morning, the door to the house was open. We found that the entire house had been ransacked! Nothing was stolen, but it looks like someone was searching for something…**

11:14: nothing was stolen?

**11:14: Absolutely nothing.**

11:15: i’m coming down

 

Makoto is standing outside, speaking with a couple of police officers. Haru sidles up next to him, but something keeps him from getting too close. It’s oddly awkward standing so close to him. Why?

“Ah, Haru!” Makoto reaches out as if to touch him, but hesitates at the last second. “Did you see anything while I was away?”

“I did,” Haru says.

“Please tell us,” the police officer says. “We need all the information we can get.”

“Ten past four in the morning. I saw a woman with short blonde hair and a square face walk away from the house. She was carrying a sports bag with _Ueyama Tennis Club_ printed on it.”

“Did you see her build?”

“Slim and tall. She was wearing a men’s jacket three sizes too big.”

“And you didn’t do anything…?”

“I wasn’t in any shape to.” Haru stares down at the officer, who raises an eyebrow, asking him to elaborate. “It was a personal issue.”

He feels Makoto’s eyes on him. There will be questions later.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Sir, you’ll be brought in for questioning within the next week, just so that we can make sure we have all the facts. You’ll be asked to identify the suspect from a line-up, although…well, there aren’t many blonde women in this part of Japan. It’s just an official procedure.”

“Yeah.” _I’m used to being interrogated, anyway._ Haru sighs, resisting the urge to shoot a glance at Makoto.

Makoto talks with the police officers a bit more, and then they leave. Haru watches the car squeeze gingerly into the twisting pathway down to the main road.

“Haru?” He feels Makoto’s eyes on him again. “About what you said to that officer…what was the personal issue?”

“Nightmare.” He doesn’t feel like saying any more. He turns back toward the house. “I’m going back to sleep.”

Haru waits for a second by the door, listening for the worried call that he thought was coming. When he turns around, he catches Makoto’s back disappearing into his own house.

His heart drops, but he tries not to feel it. It doesn’t matter. Makoto’s just tired.

Just tired, that’s all.

 

*    *    *

 

The evening is oddly bright; Makoto figures winter is ending early here. There are tiny flower buds growing on the cherry trees already, their mild pink hue overpowered by the burnished sunlight. This is Makoto’s favorite time of day. Nagisa always takes selfies at this singular hour of the day, claiming they make him look _hot_ , but Makoto can’t really see past the face of the energetic little kid he met at Iwatobi SC so many years ago.

Along his usual jogging route is the SC, which he hasn’t visited all week. He should probably go see Coach Sasabe before he and Haru leave on the 2nd. Makoto pulls open the glass door and peeks inside.

There are a couple of kids standing at the reception desk and fiddling with the little sea animal charms hanging from the display. Makoto instantly feels his heart sink, the heavy painful warmth of nostalgia embracing his whole being. _Can I really do this right now?_

No. Makoto steps outside and keeps jogging, losing himself in the evening scenery. He’ll do it tomorrow. Maybe then he’ll be a little more prepared for the onslaught of emotions.

On the road to his house is a small convenience store. _Ah,_ Makoto remembers, _we ran out of bonito flakes._ The bell on the door jingles as he walks in; no one pays him any mind. To them, he’s just another starving college student.

One aisle in, he spots the small packet beside someone surveying the shelves—the last one. He reaches for it, but the vague human presence he registered reaches their hand for it at the same time.

“Ah, sorry,” Makoto blurts, withdrawing his hand. “Go ahead.”

The person makes eye contact. Makoto gazes into warm violet irises.

“…Miyashiro-kun?”

“Oh, hello!” The boy’s eyes widen, sparkling in the stark beam of the tubelight. “What was your name again? You were at Iwatobi High, weren’t you?”  
“Tachibana Makoto,” Makoto answers. “Yes, I was.”

Miyashiro grins and hands the packet of bonito flakes to him. “Take this, Tachibana-senpai. I don’t need it.”

“Are you sure?” Makoto stutters. Wouldn’t _he_ usually be the one saying that?

“Yeah.” Miyashiro’s face is nothing if not kind. Makoto takes the packet, wondering what just happened.

Outside, they move to say goodbye, but Miyashiro takes a step to the left at the same time that Makoto takes a step to the left and he supposes that fate won’t allow them to part just yet.

“So,” Makoto fills the silence effortlessly, “how are Nagisa and Rei treating you? I’m sure Rei is a tough captain. He’s always so nitpicky about the aesthetic of swimming.” He laughs, and takes a breath to speak again, expecting silence.

Unlike Haru, though, Miyashiro chatters right back, and Makoto’s words puff out unused into the golden air. “Oh, Captain Ryuugazaki is really tough. He was a little soft on Shimada in the beginning, but he got stricter after I told him about Shimada’s disciplinary issues. Shimada’s really a nice kid, but he needs someone to be tough on him. I mean, I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s always had problems concentrating.”

“Oh, you have?” Makoto remembers an outstretched hand in the evening glow, sand on his clothes, a whispered _Are you okay?_ “It’s the same with me and Haru. We met when we were babies.”

Miyashiro smiles. “History repeats itself.”

“I don’t think we’re old enough to be considered _history,”_ Makoto laughs. “That makes me feel like I’m a hundred years old.”

Miyashiro giggles too, and the sunny air rings with laughter. Makoto likes this. It feels like he’s at home with Ran and Ren, laughing and messing around and getting pranks played on him as usual.

They pass a gap between buildings, revealing the sparkling ocean. It’s fiercely beautiful as usual, ripping against the shore with a ferocity that still makes Makoto shrink away. The sunlight is a little too strong today, though. He shields his eyes, hoping for dusk to fall quickly.

“Do you still swim?” Miyashiro asks.

“Sometimes,” Makoto hums. “Not as much as before, but it calms me down sometimes. Haru drags me into the pool every weekend…”

“That sounds like him.” Miyashiro smiles. “Hazuki-senpai and Captain Ryuugazaki talk about you guys a lot. I told you, right? They say you’re a softie who wouldn’t hurt a fly, and Nanase-senpai is the cool mackerel-obsessed loner, but together you make a great team.”

“Is that what they say?” Makoto’s face burns. “That’s…” _actually true._

Miyashiro gives him a smile. There’s an odd, kindred glint in his eye. “They say Shimada and I are like the new you. I don’t think we’d ever be able to replace you two, though.”

Makoto laughs softly, staring at the ocean beside the stone path. He’s walking closer to the sea this time. “I don’t know about that.”

Silence falls. Something stirs in Makoto’s heart, but he can’t really place it. Maybe the sun is getting to him.

“Well,” Miyashiro says as they reach the base of the winding road before the stairs. “This is where I say goodbye. See you around, Tachibana-senpai.”

“See you, Miyashiro-kun.” Makoto smiles and waves until the boy’s glowing form disappears around the corner.

The sun sets, and Makoto starts his trek up the road. The golden rays filling the air have dissipated, and the weight of Makoto’s current predicament settles about his shoulders like a shroud. The bag in his hand feels heavier all of a sudden.

Tamura-san, the old grandma who runs the florist’s shop, is rearranging her displays. Makoto rushes over. “Do you need some help?”

“Oh, Tachibana-kun!” She smiles beatifically. “It’s so nice to see you after so long. I would love some help, dear. Could you place these flowers inside the display case toward the wall?”

“Of course.” Makoto puts his bag down and takes the flowers.

After everything has been arranged the way Tamura-san wants it, she reaches into her bag and pulls a wrapped onigiri from it. “Take this with you, dear. I had a feeling you’d stop by today.”

Makoto hesitates, then smiles, taking the onigiri. “Thank you, Tamura-san.”

“Take care!” She waves him off as usual, and Makoto is enveloped in a warm heavy wave of nostalgia as he hurries up to the stairs. He crests the hill and turns toward his house, and dusk falls on the last day of the year.

 

*    *    *

 

**December 31, 2015**

**21:35: Haru, are you watching the fireworks at midnight?**

**21:36: My mother was asking if you wanted to come watch with us. Rin, Rei, and Nagisa are coming over, too.**

21:38: not this year

21:40: just want to rest

**21:41: Okay…if you change your mind, we’ll be by the water. I hope you can come.**

21:42: i’ll see

**21:42: Okay. Text me if you need me.**

 

Makoto places his phone aside with a sigh. His heart seems to have sunk to the depths of his stomach. Haru _always_ watches the fireworks with him.

Just not this year.

There’s a knock on the door. It’s Nagisa and Rei. Makoto welcomes them in with a big smile, and they both sit down at the table and start chattering away to Makoto’s family. Normally, Makoto would join in, but…

It’s bothering him. Something isn’t right, and he just can’t place it. All day, he’s been distracting himself, but the odd distance between himself and Haru has pushed itself to the front of his mind and now he can’t stop worrying. Sitting here on the sofa, knowing that Haru is just twenty minutes and twenty steps away, it’s burning at his chest like salt water.

 _Did I do something wrong?_ he wonders. _Did I say something? Maybe I should have talked to him about Sousuke._ Makoto stares at his hands. _What if something happened while I was gone?_

“Mako-chan,” comes a sudden voice. Makoto’s head snaps up. Nagisa’s in front of him, one hand on his shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing,” Makoto replies, smiling. “I was just thinking about going back to university.”

“It’s tough, huh?” Nagisa grins. “Let’s go outside.”

The night is crisp and clear. Snow has piled up by the side of the road, and the stars are out, glittering into infinity. Makoto gazes up at them, wondering how far he’d have to go to reach one.

“Is it about Haru-chan?” Nagisa breaks the silence.

“Yeah.” Makoto sits down on the steps, and Nagisa follows suit. “Ever since we had lunch with Rin, things have been…strange. Haru hasn’t been himself…”

Nagisa hums. “How so?”

“He’s…Well, I haven’t spoken to him all that much because my family and I went camping over the past one-and-a-half days. When the burglary happened, Haru came out and told the police officer he’d seen someone standing in front of our house.” Makoto glances up. “The officer asked why he was outside that late, and he said he’d had a ‘personal issue.’ I asked him what it was, and he just said ‘Nightmare’ and walked off.”

“That’s pretty typical,” Nagisa laughs. “Did you ask him about it later?”

“No…”

“That’s no good.” Nagisa pouts at him. “Mako-chan, you’re supposed to _talk_ to people about these things.”

“I know, but…it’s not just that.” Makoto sighs, resting his chin on his hands. “I can’t place it. There’s something _off_ about Haru, Nagisa, and I just can’t figure out what.”

“I bet he said nothing when you asked him, too.” Nagisa heaves a massive sigh. “Honestly, you two are horrible. For your whole old-married-couple act, you both sure are terrible at communication.”

“Nagisa,” Makoto whines. “Stop it.”

Without a word, Nagisa pulls up something on his phone and shoves it in Makoto’s face.

_Why are you booing me? I’m right._

Despite himself, Makoto bursts out laughing. Maybe things will be okay.

“Isn’t Haru-chan coming over today?” Nagisa asks, wiping a tear from his eye with the vestiges of his bright smile still on his face. “You can just talk to him. Go off somewhere alone like you usually do.”

“He’s not,” Makoto sighs, deflating.

“Really?!” Nagisa’s eyes go wide. “He always comes over…”

“I know…I’m so confused, Nagisa.” Makoto stares up at the stars. “I just don’t know what’s wrong, but I don’t want to invade his space, either.”

“I am, too.” Nagisa leans back, his hands folded behind his head. “I texted Haru-chan yesterday, but he was so distant. More than usual, I mean. I guess he’s really living up to his namesake.” He giggles. “Anyway, Mako-chan, don’t worry so much about it. I think everything will work out. After all, you two made up after your fight last year, and that was pretty big!”

“That’s true.” Makoto feels like he’s been buoyed upward by Nagisa’s optimism. “Thanks, Nagisa. I appreciate it.”

“No problem, Mako-chan!” Nagisa grins. “Let’s make Haru-chan happy again!”

“Yeah!”

 

*    *    *

 

Makoto chats trivially with Rei and Nagisa as they sit watching the still water. In summer, the light of a thousand drifting lanterns would illuminate the black night, but it's New Year's Eve and the void of water stretches all the way to where the stars begin.

Rin left for America earlier; Makoto would have liked to see him, but he supposes that’s just how adult life is. He wonders if Rin is somewhere on the other side of the horizon already.

The clock strikes midnight. Rei, Nagisa, Ran, and Ren start cheering as the first firework blooms in the sky, a thunderous boom echoing through the silent sea air.

Makoto exhales, watching the black sky as it fades into smoke behind brilliant bursts of color. This is the first new year he’s welcomed without Haru.


	5. ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's getting worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well uh free s3 is KILLING me so take THIS which i have been working on for FIVE months (sorry i really love you guys depression is kicking my ass)   
> can i just YELL??? about HIYORI?????? hes so confusing what the hell is going on w that???? jesus???  
> anyway enjoy the chapter there is a lot of dissociation and suicidal ideation so B CAREFUL YALL

Haru wakes, bleary-eyed, to the bright sunlight streaming through his window. 

_ Oh, _ he remembers,  _ it’s January 1st. _

He sits up. Cold air falls over his shoulders to replace the warmth of the blanket, and Haru feels as if his head is being dragged downward by the weight of a thousand boulders. His chest aches; all he wants is to sleep.

So that’s what he does.

He wakes up at noon, to his phone vibrating moment after moment. Texts from Makoto, Nagisa, Rei, Rin. Everyone’s worried, but Haru can’t bring himself to care. He can’t even bring himself to sit up again. 

Haru doesn’t know when he falls asleep again. Wispy clouds drift about his mind and then he’s floating in the blue-green mist, suffocating, choking, and then he’s awake, and then lying in his own blood in a city street, and then awake…

At one point, Haru feels as if his entire body is shrinking around him, enclosing him within a prison of flesh and bone; he feels desperately like sinking into the bathtub and inhaling. It would be so easy, if he had the strength to go take a bath. Clutching his head, Haru buries himself in the sheets, hoping that the painful crescents his nails are carving into his skull will be sufficient to appease the demon in his brain.

It’s too hot, too suffocating under the blankets, but freezing cold outside of the bed. Haru can’t get up, and he can’t stay here either. He wants to do  _ something, _ set himself on fire or drown or  _ something _ to stop the buzzing in his head, the repulsive hyperawareness of every cell in his body. 

As if hearing his plea for help, the doorbell rings. Haru knows the door is unlocked, and apparently so does the person outside, because he hears gentle footsteps roaming around below and then coming up the stairs into the bedroom.

“Haru?”

It’s Makoto. Of  _ course _ it’s Makoto.

“Haru, are you okay?” Makoto steps through the doorway. “I brought food.”

“It’s okay,” Haru manages to breathe out, even as his stomach growls and curls in on itself in protest and the atoms that make up his very being try to rip free. “I’m not hungry.”

“Haru,  _ please, _ ” comes the plaintive plea, and Haru is forced to turn around, drag his heavy body up from the rocks on the ocean floor and surface to breathe. 

“What?” Even though Haru’s voice comes out gray and empty, he feels like all the breath has been knocked out of him at the sight of Makoto’s face. His nose and ears are red from the cold. His ungloved hands are clutching a cloth bag with boxy shapes inside. There are still snowflakes on his shoulders, all over his coat, caught in his hair. 

Haru sneaks a glance out of the gap in the curtains. Snow whirls outside in a tempestuous rage.

Makoto came up here in a  _ storm _ to make sure he was all right.

The immeasurable weight of sheer guilt pulls Haru back down, down, down to the ocean floor, and it takes all his strength and willpower to hold himself upright on the bed. “You didn’t have to come.”

“I wanted to,” Makoto says, stabbing him through the heart again. “To make sure you were okay, Haru.”

“I’m okay.” Haru forces his screaming body up, up to his feet on the cold hardwood floor. Makoto hands him the bag, and he takes it. There’s still warmth radiating out of it.

“Well,” Makoto says, smiling a little bit. “Let’s eat. It’ll get cold.”

Once Haru has brushed his teeth, they head downstairs. Makoto unpacks the special New Year’s lunch his mother made; Haru gets the chopsticks and plates, and they sit under the kotatsu to warm up.

Haru’s ashamed of himself. He hasn’t eaten for twenty-four hours. Makoto keeps having to baby him. He hates this.

As if on cue, his stomach growls loudly. Makoto’s head snaps up. “…How long has it been since you last ate?”

“I ate last night,” Haru lies. 

Makoto’s eyebrows draw together, but he only shares a soft, piercing glance with Haru before turning back to the food. 

Well, there goes his lie. The silence is awkward, demanding, like a preteen throwing a tantrum. 

“Haru, have you taken a bath yet?” Makoto’s question comes suddenly, and Haru can’t stop the answer from bubbling out of him just as quickly.

“No.”

A sigh. “Haru…”

“What?”

“Nothing.” The word comes out of habit. Makoto never says what he’s thinking out loud, because Haru can read him like a book in most cases. This isn’t one of those cases.

Of course, Haru lets the subject drop and be swallowed up by the gentle heat of the kotatsu. He’d rather die than press it. 

Once they finish their meal, Haru does the dishes. Makoto makes to leave.

“No,” Haru says, not turning away from the hissing, steaming sink as the blizzard seethes beyond the window. It’s a complete whiteout. Makoto won’t even make it to the stairs. “The storm’s still going.”

“It’s okay! It’s not that far,” Makoto protests, but Haru turns around and gives him a look and he shuts up obediently.

“You’ll fall. I’ll walk you down,” Haru says quietly. He needs to make sure Makoto doesn’t get hurt, and, well…he’d do anything to get out of here. It’d be even better if the cold swallowed him up altogether.

“All right,” Makoto concedes. 

Leaving Makoto in the foyer, Haru goes upstairs to get his coat. The wooden floorboards throw the hollow sounds of his steps back at him, heavy and lumbering in the silence. Every movement is slow, labored, as if he’s walking underwater. When he opens the closet door and steps inside, the pressure builds up; the quiet slip of fabric under his too-dry hands drives a nail into his heart, and then another, and suddenly he is on the floor clutching at his chest and struggling to breathe.

_ I’m so tired of this, _ Haru feels himself thinking. Something in him reaches out to the faucet in the bathroom, to the two-foot depth of the tub—deep enough to drown—to the window behind him—high enough to jump from—to the snowstorm outside, and then…

“Haru,” he hears Makoto call from outside the room. “Are you all right in there?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, pushing himself up to his feet and taking his coat off the hanger. “I couldn’t find the coat.” 

Downstairs, Haru opens the front door and is instantly met with a blast of frozen wind. The steps down from the torii are covered in ice. Resignedly, the two of them start down; the faster they get to Makoto’s house, the less time they’ll have to spend freezing out here.

About halfway down, Haru looks up from the ground to sneak a glance at Makoto. It’s at that exact moment that his foot misses the next step. Haru’s legs fly out from under him. The ground disappears, replaced with gray stormy sky; for a single moment, suspended in the air, Haru wonders bizarrely if he’ll hit his head and die.

_ “Haru!” _ Makoto’s urgent cry rings out. Haru feels an arm around his waist, pulling him upwards; he crashes into Makoto, and the two of them slam into the railing. Makoto steadies him as he tries to stand again, warm hands on his upper arms.

“Haah…maybe I shouldn’t have made you come with me,” Makoto sighs, pushing himself back up to his feet.

“What are you talking about?” Haru mutters, bracing himself against the icy railing and wobbling forward. “You didn’t make me do anything.”

Makoto sighs again as they start down. 

When they reach Makoto’s house, Haru waits until Makoto has opened the front door and stepped inside before turning around.

“See you, Haru,” Makoto calls. “Don’t forget to pack.”

“Yeah,” Haru replies, not looking at him as he starts back up the icy stairs.

 

* * *

 

**January 1, 2016**

**23:30: Haru, are you doing all right? You seemed down today.**

23:34: yeah

23:35: im fine

**23:35: …I need to talk to you about something.**

23:36: what

**23:37: I want to talk to you in person. It isn’t genuine enough over text.**

23:39: ???

23:40: ok,

**23:42: I’m sorry if I’m bothering you. I’m just worried.**

23:43: ur not bothering me

23:44: get some sleep tonight

23:46: train back to tokyo tmrw

**23:47: Yeah. Thanks, Haru. We’ll talk then.**

 

Makoto hasn’t used his typical kaomoji recently. Ever since Rin told them both about Sousuke, actually. Haru can guess what he’s worried about.  _ Haru, are you doing all right? You haven’t seemed like your usual self lately. For a while, actually. Please tell me what’s wrong. I want to help you. _

Haru hugs his pillow close to his chest, burying his face in the achingly soft material. His insides are hurting again.

He imagines telling Makoto about the pain. He kind of did once, back in middle school.  _ Looking at you just hurts! _

Back then, Makoto’s eyes had widened in self-loathing realization. He’d gone limp as Haru clutched his wrists, spilling his heart out, moonlight alighting upon the soft half-developed planes of his face, illuminating his green eyes from inside.

It hurts even more. Haru curls up, tensing the muscles in his chest until the pain fades temporarily. The moonlight pierces through the window in a bright shaft, throwing the room into soft relief against impossibly black shadows. A soft cry of pain escapes from Haru’s lips as his chest crushes in on itself with more vengeance than he previously thought possible; his feet tense and curl and stretch as the agony ripples through his chest and stomach in waves.

He’s alone here. All alone. 

Shakily, he stands. Locking himself in the bathroom for ten minutes helps a bit, but Haru knows he’s still not going to get any sleep tonight. Invisible weights strapped to his limbs, he wanders into the closet and dresses himself. Shirt off. Loose pajama pants off. Jeans, one leg at a time. Zipper. Button. Collared shirt, too soft for comfort. Seven buttons, one by one by one. Jacket, too heavy, too warm for the heated house. Zipper. Scarf. Loop upon loop upon loop around his neck, tighter than it should be. Gloves, finger by finger by finger. Socks, one at a time. Shoes, one at a time.

He’s tired, so tired that his knees threaten to buckle with each step down the stairs. The gloves are rubbing uncomfortably against his hands, sweat building up on his palms, the cloth around his fingers too snug. 

It’s cold outside. City lights glimmer past the dark neighborhood. Only the soft rushing of the surf in the distance punctuates the smothering silence. 

Haru walks and walks, his moving legs seeming like a strange detached part of him a million miles away. The cold numbs his face. His hands are sweaty in his jacket pockets. The red stoplight shines in his face, beckoning. Calling.  _ Step forward. _

Haru closes his eyes and inches to the edge of the curb. Cars rush past him. He wants it. The pain, the agony, the struggle to breathe. Anything is better than the dull ache in his chest, the numbness in his extremities, the strange feeling that he’s floating a thousand miles away from here.

He almost does it. He’s so close, and then his eyes open and he sees the ghost of a young Makoto standing knee-deep in icy cold water and shudders. The ocean is black, inky waves visible against a stark white shore through the gap between buildings. 

Haru steps back, and the moment is broken.

_ Coward, _ his body screams.  _ Coward, weakling, fool, idiot! _

The light turns green. Bright, searing Makoto green. Haru steps forward and suddenly the world snaps to the side for a brief instant before returning to a strange, foreign normal.

Oh no. Oh, God, no.

Dissociating horribly, Haru somehow manages to make it to the other side of the street. The stoplight turns yellow, then red. Moonlight shines down on the street. The tiny sparkles in the concrete stand out in piercing clarity a million billion trillion miles away. Haru moves his legs and forgets how to walk. He sucks in a deep, unsatisfying breath and forgets how to breathe. 

…

Ten minutes later, Haru remembers he was walking. The ocean laps at the toes of his boots. He doesn’t quite remember how he got here. Vague flashes of sidewalk and streetlights dance at the back of his absent mind.

Haru sits on the dry sand and draws his knees to his chest, watching the water mindlessly. It grounds him slowly, gradually, until he can remember to breathe properly again; gives him a gentle rhythm for his heartbeat to match. 

This has been the worst episode yet. Haru closes his eyes and listens to the waves, letting the weight of reality swallow him whole.

 

* * *

 

One hour later, Haru hears something close by—a small crack, the  _ pop _ of a bottle cap escaping from under a shoe—and opens his eyes, rising quickly from the boundary between sleep and wakefulness.

“Hey,” says the stranger. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” Haru says, standing up and brushing the sand from his clothes.

“Cool. I’m one of the guards here.” The guy jerks a thumb at the little security office at the end of the beach. Haru finally notices his uniform. There’s a little patch on his arm.  _ Iwatobi Beach Security.  _ “Just checking to make sure there’s no trouble out here. You got a place to stay, man?”

“Yeah,” Haru replies, turning back to the street. “I live here. Just needed to think.”

“That’s okay. Just checking.” The man walks off down the beach. Haru watches him go. It was probably time for him to leave anyway.

The walk back is much easier. Haru doesn’t suddenly snap out of his body this time. He climbs the stairs up to the torii one at a time, then the stairs up to his room one at a time, and changes his clothes, and finally slips quietly under the sheets.

Sleep comes easily. Haru thanks the stars that he lives near the ocean, just before he sinks below the fathomless waters of slumber.

 

* * *

 

**January 2, 2016**

**08:35: Haru, are you awake?**

**08:36: The train, Haru! We have to go. You have to wake up in the next ten minutes if we want to be ready in time!**

**08:38: Haru!!!!!!**

**08:40: HARU!!!!!!!!** **  
** **08:42: HARU-CHAN WAKE UP**

**08:43: HARU-CHAN I AM COMING OVER THERE YOU NEED TO WAKE UP**

08:45: stop calling me -chan

08:49: i was already awake two hours ago didnt check phone

08:50: made breakfast

**08:50: (￣ ￣|||)**

**08:50: I’m at your door already though…**

 

Well, there’s a kaomoji again. Haru sighs and goes to let Makoto in as the doorbell rings unnecessarily.

Makoto raises a hand in greeting, smiling sheepishly. “I should have guessed you wouldn’t check your phone, Haru-chan.”

Haru bristles at the  _ -chan _ ; Makoto’s eye has a glimmer of mischief in it as he hums “Pardon the intrusion,” slipping off his shoes.

Haru pads back into the kitchen. “Made you breakfast,” he says, scooping a fried egg onto a plate along with a piece of toast and handing it to him. He’d guessed Makoto would show up sooner or later.

“Thanks for the food!” Makoto chimes as Haru goes back to frying his own egg with a stupidly soft smile on his face. He tries to stifle it.

(He fails.)

Almost forty minutes later, they’re waiting at the train station, suitcases in hand. Iwatobi’s little train station isn’t very crowded, so they make it onto the Shinkansen just fine.

Makoto breathes a sigh of relief as they settle into their seats. The train starts off at 9:30 on the dot, humming quietly as fields and mountains alike begin to rush past them in a blur. Haru stares out the window over Makoto’s broad frame.

“Hey, look at that!” Makoto points at something ahead that Haru can’t see. He leans over to the window, trying to figure out what it is. His head lands on Makoto’s chest, hand bracing on his thigh as he nearly falls over, and Makoto lets out a surprised yelp.

Oh. That’s what it is. A cherry blossom tree, buds already poking out on the branches. Haru smiles and pulls away. “It’s already close to blooming. That’s rare.”

“Yeah, isn’t it?” Makoto breathes out, bright red. What’s with him? 

“Makoto.”   
“Wh-what?” 

Wow. Haru narrows his eyes. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing!” Makoto inches away from Haru surreptitiously. “Nothing’s going on. I’m…not feeling well.”

If  _ that’s  _ the case…Haru sighs. Makoto never tells him when he’s sick. It always ends up getting too severe to ignore. “You should have said something earlier.”

“Yeah, I should have,” Makoto agrees easily, glancing out of the window as he smiles uncomfortably. “Sorry, Haru.”

Okay, something’s  _ definitely _ up. “Makoto?”

“What?”

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

Makoto’s eyes widen and he takes in a short, sharp breath; his smile crumples as he stares at his knees. Haru’s heart drops out of his chest. What the hell is going on? Has Makoto been hiding something from him? Is he okay?

“It’s okay. Sorry. I don’t think…this is the right time.” Makoto glances back at his face and smiles brightly. “It wasn’t that important anyway.”

“If you’re worried, then say something,” Haru mutters, pulling his backpack to his chest. 

“That’s just it.” Makoto takes a deep breath. “I think…Haru-chan,  _ you _ should tell  _ me _ if something’s wrong, too. It’s not good to bottle things up like I do.”

Haru’s gaze snaps to him. He studies Makoto’s face intently, searching for some sort of crack in his façade, but there’s nothing. This is  _ weird _ . Makoto never confronts anything directly.

“It’s okay,” Haru says. “I’m fine. You worry too much.”

Makoto looks unhappy, then turns back to staring out the window. “Okay, Haru. If you say so.”

Suddenly, Haru realizes that today might have been Makoto’s attempt at a reset button. It makes sense. The kaomoji in the morning. The unwavering chipper smile. The unusually happy texts. He should have picked up on it earlier.

Settling back in his seat, Haru tries to think about anything else. Rin. Rei. Nagisa. College. He stares out of the window and, when that fails to distract him, pulls a book from his backpack. Something, anything to shake the unsettling feeling that he just ruined his last chance at peace.


End file.
